Be My Gene Kelly
by kcollinsp
Summary: 12-year-olds Kurt and Blaine go on a picnic. The weather won't cooperate.


Kurt doesn't wake up until ten. It's spring break and now that he's a seventh grader—basically going through puberty (even though his voice refuses to drop and the baby fat around his face is as prevalent as ever), and he supposes that as an almost-teenager he's definitely allowed, if not, required to sleep-in whenever he gets the chance. The sun is blinding through the windows, and even though Kurt is slightly peeved at himself for forgetting to shut the blinds when he went to bed last night, he can't help but be pleased with the weather. He'd spent the first few days of his week-off sitting in the nook under the staircase on the first floor, rereading the sixth Harry Potter book because it had been pouring outside. It's not that he really has anywhere to go, but now that it's nice out he can read and sketch outside rather than in lonely dark spaces that seem to be abundant in his home. He gets out of bed and looks through his closet, deciding on the pale blue button-up with his new charcoal dress pants and a maroon bow tie. Kurt Hummel _always _dresses for the occasion, even if the occasion happens to be hanging around and sketching new ideas for future outfits—his prom, his wedding, his funeral (and yes, he knows that's morbid, but one must prepare).

He's halfway into spreading jam on his toast when he hears a knock on the door. His dad didn't say anything about visitors last night and he really hopes it's not those creepy religious people who smile at him a little too widely, and talk to him like he's a toddler. He opens the door, a little precariously if nothing else, but relaxes when he sees that it's just Blaine, who's smiling brightly and carrying some kind of basket in his right hand, waving to Kurt enthusiatically, with his other.

"Hi Kurt!"

"Hi. Do you wanna come in?" Kurt asks, opening the door a little wider and gesturing for Blaine to move into the house.

Blaine moves towards the living room and sits on the couch, placing the basket on the adjacent coffee table.

The boy moved in across the street from Kurt eight months ago, and has been his best friend since. He doesn't go to Kurt's school, unfortunately; his parents have been sending him to a small catholic school in the next town over since kindegarten and Kurt often wishes that he had Blaine by his side during school, or at least _someone _to talk to or have lunch with. But, he settles for having him on the weekends and during school breaks, mostly when his parents aren't home. It's not as if they _hate_ Kurt, but he has a feeling that they don't really like him either.

Kurt crosses into the kitchen to grab his toast before joining Blaine on the couch and pointing to the basket, question clear in his gaze.

"Oh. I packed some food. My mom made chicken salad and some of her red velvet cupcakes last night and I figured we could do a picnic," Blaine said, bouncing on the couch with excitement.

Kurt smiled and opened the basket, finding the aformentioned food, some bottled water and a multi-colored blanket.

"That sounds fun," he says, looking back up to Blaine, "but where are we supposed to go? The park isn't within walking distance."

Blaine smiles again, standing up and grabbing the basket, walking to the doorway before turning back to Kurt. "Are you coming?"

"Where are we going?"

Blaine rolls his eyes and walks back to the couch, pulling Kurt to stand up and just missing Kurt's blush at the contact.

"Just follow me. It's a surprise," he says, continuing to hold Kurt's hand until they're out the front door.

Kurt fishes the key from under the doormat and locks the door, running to catch up with Blaine and following him down the street. Blaine keeps a brisk pace and turns right when they get to the neighborhood couldesac into a patch of dense woods.

"Is this safe?" Kurt calls out from where he's stepping over a fallen tree, following Blaine by a few feet.

Blaine turns around and waits for Kurt to catch up to him. "Of course. I wouldn't put you in danger, silly. I know what I'm doing." He takes Kurt's hand when they come across another obstacle, helping Kurt steady himself as he steps over.

After walking for a few minutes, Kurt can see a large clearing a few yards away, and notices Blaine start to walk a little faster, basket swinging in one hand, and the other securely latched in Kurt's. They walk to the middle of the grassy area, and Blaine plops down the basket uncerimoniously before opening it and quickly digging through to find the blanket. Kurt goes to sit down next to him, but Blaine stops him.

"No, no, not yet. I don't want you to get your clothes dirty," Blaine says, smiling at Kurt while grabbing the blanket and setting the food back in the basket.

"Oh," Kurt blushes, "thank you."

"Of course," Blaine says, placing the blanket on the ground and straightening the creases, gesturing for Kurt to sit down. "You have really nice clothes."

"Thank you. You noticed."

"Duh," Blaine laughs, setting the paper plates down onto the blanket and opening the chicken salad and the ritz crackers.

Kurt blushes again and they begin to eat. Blaine's mom is amazing in the kitchen—almost as good as Kurt—and they finish off everything pretty quickly. They talk about school, math, church group (in Blaine's case), and Blaine's upcoming polo match next weekend. He had asked Kurt a few weeks ago if he had wanted to attend, and Kurt, of course, vehemently agreed. After half an hour, Blaine peels off the paper off of one of the cupcakes and hands it to Kurt, neither boy noticing the quickly darkening skies.

Kurt takes it and carefully bites into it, Blaine about to do the same when he feels one small raindrop fall on his head. He pats his head, as if in disbelief, and then looks up at the sky, frowning deeply. As Kurt chews, he does the same, looking back down to Blaine in question.

Blaine stares back for a moment, taking notice of how Kurt's eyes have changed into a stormier grey-blue, which seems incredibly appropriate considering. And then, the skies open up.

They both freeze for a few seconds, as if refusing to notice the torrential downpour around them. Blaine smiles despite himself and leans over to where Kurt is sitting a few feet away, pointing to his face.

"You've got a little…" Blaine motions to the general direction of Kurt's lips, and the latter blushes and looks down. Blaine tips his chin up and brushes the leftover frosting off with a now-wet finger, taking a little more time than necessary.

"Thanks," Kurt says, "Do you think we should pack up?"

Blaine then seems to realize the weather, even though by now his clothes have soaked through to his skin.

"Well, we're already drenched," Blaine says, a smirk forming on his lips.

"And…?"

"Well, I mean…it's not like we can do anything about our clothes now," Blaine says, standing up and gesturing to his body. Kurt combs a hand through his hair, trying to maintain its shape as best as he can.

"Okay…"

Blaine takes a minute to look at this wet, disheveled version of _his _Kurt, sitting cross-legged on the blanket, seeming to embrace the rain despite a shiver that visibly passes through his body. He's known about his attraction to boys for about three months, at least, that's how long ago he really put it into words, really _accepted _it, and Kurt may have been a contributing factor to his realization. He can't help but get caught up in the hues of his eyes, the slant of his nose, the way his cheeks are a little bit chubbier than the rest of his face. He shakes away the thought, though, because there's no way to really know if Kurt could feel the same.

"What are you thinking about?" Kurt asks, perceptive as ever.

Blaine stutters and then holds out his hand, lifting Kurt off the ground. "I was _thinking _that we should dance?"

Blaine can see the question in Kurt's eyes and for a moment, a very short moment, he regrets the request. But, sure enough, Kurt breaks into a smile, his eyes lighting up even through the rain and the fog that has begun to surround them.

"Like Gene Kelly?"

Blaine laughs and pulls Kurt off the blanket, out further into the clearing. "Exactly like Gene Kelly."

Blaine hesitates but then pulls Kurt closer, so that one arm is circling his waist, and the other is held out, just as he's been taught in the ballroom dancing classes his parents _insist _that he attends. Kurt follows his lead, sliding his right hand into Blaine's and runs his left up past Blaine's elbow and onto his shoulder.

"Like this?" Kurt asks, a little breathlessly.

"Exactly like this."

The twirl for a few minutes, rain pattering relentlessly, before Blaine realizes just how close they have really gotten. He looks up from where he had been glancing at his and Kurt's clasped hands, and almost bumps into Kurt's face. The older boy's eyes are staring down at him, seeming to ask a question that Blaine has no idea how to answer. All he knows is, he really, _really _would love to kiss Kurt right now. And he's never really thought about kissing anyone else, except for maybe Tom Hardy.

Blaine doesn't kiss Kurt that day, though. They separate slightly awkwardly after a few more minutes, before packing up the picnic supplies and heading to their separate houses to shower and change. It's not until three months later, when Kurt admits to him that he's been thinking _stuff _about boys and he's never told anyone before, that Blaine musters up the courage to give him a tenative peck on the lips. After he pulls back and Kurt immediately swoops back in to give him a similarly chaste kiss, Blaine sputters out the question of if Kurt has feelings for him, when he started to have feelings for him "because, God, Kurt, I've felt this way for a long time."

Kurt replies simply, confidently. "It was that day with the picnic. When you asked me to dance with you? I've always wanted a Disney prince to come and rescue me from my life here, ever since I was a kid, and in that moment, I saw how you were probably the closest human thing to that."


End file.
